Evolutionary Stand Still
by Spocktastic
Summary: Three Charaters across the globe are connected, wether they are aware of it or not. One man, behind a mysterious company, tracks down carefully selected people to give them an Evolutionary "Boost". These ordinary people are going to save us all.
1. Being Watched

**Being Watched.**

Do you ever get the feeling you're being watched? Everyone does at some point. It's hard not to, right?

I've had this feeling since the day I was born. I'm always looking over my shoulder like someone is following me, or watching me, or something.

That feeling got worse today.

I was walking home from work when I saw this man standing behind the back bushing of my building. When I caught him stalking me he didn't move, he just kept watching. I'm not much of a person to call out someone so I just gave him a look and walked away.

As if that wasn't enough, I caught the same guy poking around my building's garden.

So that explains why I am up at three in the morning, watching a man in my yard. I guess I'm the one watching him.

I peered over my windowsill and waited for him to move. He was just standing there, putting something in my flowerbed. Well, it wasn't _my _flowerbed. It was some old women's in the apartment across from mine. She went out every morning just to water them. I admired her diligence. I know I could never keep up with a yard.

I sighed as my eyelids grew heavy. No, I had to stay awake. I would pry them open if I had to. I had to see what this man was up to.

Should I call the police? I could, he's trespassing, unless he lives in the building. That would explain why he was here. Maybe he wasn't stalking me at all, maybe I'm paranoid. Well, I know that's true.

Yet, I couldn't stop watching him. What was he doing at three in the morning?

I ducked down swiftly as the man looked up. I watched him peer around as if he was just as paranoid as I was. Then he took something out of his pocket, threw it in the garden, turned around, and walked down the back path behind my building.

I held my breath until he was gone. Then I slipped out of bed and threw on my slippers. I walked though my apartment to the front door and out into the carpeted hallway. Everything was eerily quiet. The grubby window near the ceiling sparkled with moonlight. It cast a smoking shadow on the floor. I shivered and carefully climbed down the steps to the back door.

I pushed on the chipped wood of the door as slowly and quietly as I could to keep it from creaking. Despite my attempts, it let out a ear splitting tremble that cut through the midnight. I cringed and closed my eyes, hoping no one heard.

I stepped out into the night. It was so deadly silent that I could almost hear myself blink. I held my breath and tiptoed across the patio and onto the cool grass. I slid passed the yard and peered into the flower garden. There had clearly been some flowers torn up and earth strewn about. Is this what he had been doing? Digging?

I was about to put my hand down to push back some of the flowers when a snap sounded behind me. I whirled around, my heart pounding in my ears. There was no one in sight, just me and the moon. I let out a sigh of relief.

"What are you doing to my flowerbed?"

I almost jumped out of my skin.

Ms. Jackson was storming across the lawn, her white hair in curlers, her eyes wild.

"Ms. Jackson," I said, stepping back from her garden, "You scared me."

"Was that you? Were you the one poking around my garden?" She hissed, her pink nightgown flowing around her like a cape. For a 4 foot tall women, she scared the crap out of me.

"No," I said, taking a few more steps back, "I saw him too. I think he's been following me. I just came down here to see what was going on, just like you Ms. Jackson."

She looked up at me then down at the flowerbed. She sighed and put her hands on her hips.

"Damn kids," She muttered, "It's nothing I can't fix."

"You really think that man was a kid, Ms. Jackson?" I said, skeptically.

She didn't appear to have heard me.

Ms. Jackson leaned down slowly, pushing back some of the flowers. She reached her hand into the hole and pulled out a small jewel. She gave it one look then tossed it back. She kicked at it with her foot, frantically trying to cover it up.

"Ms. Jackson?" I asked, eyeing her as she stepped away from the flowerbed, "Are you alright?"

"You said they were following you?" She panted, her eyes darting around madly.

"Yeah," I said, slowly, "I mean, maybe."

"Good then," She sighed, putting her hand on her heart, "You gave me quite a scare."

I paused, frowning in confusion.

"Ms. Jackson," I said, peering into the hole, "Why did you do that? And who's _they_?"

She pulled me back from the flower bed, "It's best if we just let it be. Lots of people come looking for a thing like that. We'd better just let them have it."

"Ms. Jackson," I repeated, "Is there something you're not telling me."

She laughed, her wrinkles surrounding her eyes and mouth as if she had mauled by a cat.

"There's plenty you don't know. Let's keep in that way. Besides, I'm too old to do things like this."

"You're too old to look in a hole?" I asked, confused, "Ms. Jackson, I just want a look."

She looked at me with tired eyes and muttered, "The damn thing is yours anyway, it's your choice."

I bent down and pushed back the flowers.

"Don't say I didn't warn you." She called back, as she hobbled towards the back door.

Don't say I didn't warn you? What does that mean?

I turned my attention back to the hole. There was a small glinting jewel in the center. I picked it up carefully, like it was a ticking time bomb. However, it looked very ordinary. It was just a small, clear, crystal. Maybe it was a diamond. If so, why would someone leave it here?

I turned it over in my hand, examining every inch. It didn't look like a diamond. When you find a diamond, you just know it's a diamond. There's just something about it. Well, it's human nature to respond to diamonds. It's what bonds us forever to another.

But, this was no diamond.

I could have just tossed it back into the hole, but I didn't. It's not that I wanted the stupid thing, it was just that Ms. Jackson reacted so strangely to it. Maybe it was special.

I put it my pajama pocket and headed back up to my building.

I walked up the carpeted staircase and up to my room, 7A.

I had stupidly left my door open again. One of these days someone is going to break in, and with this mysterious guy following me I should have been extra careful. But, I'm not.

I closed my apartment door behind me and sat down on my living room couch. I wasn't even going to try to fall asleep. I was still a bit nervous about the man that had been wandering around the yard.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the jewel. I switched on the red velvet lamp that sat beside the couch. Now that I could see it clearly, I couldn't exactly call is a jewel anymore. It looked like a piece of glass. It was just a stupid piece of glass, not to mention grimy too.

I tossed it on the coffee table. All of this for a piece of glass? Maybe I had missed what was really in there, if there was anything.

I leaned my head back and peered over at the door. I had left it open again. Wait, no I didn't. I had made sure to close it.

Suddenly my hair stood on end. I glanced behind the couch, half expecting some sort of monster. But, there was nothing there, just a few boxes left from moving.

I stood up and closed the door. I watched it and waited. Sure enough, it slowly opened.

I sighed in frustration. They didn't tell me this place had a faulty door. I stuck a box filled with books in front of it and sat back down onto the couch.

I curled my feet under me so they wouldn't touch the floor. I was still expecting that monster, or mysterious man, to grab me and pull me away.

I rested my head on the arm of the couch and closed my eyes.

At least I had a home of my own. I didn't stay at home like Vicky. I made a promise to myself to leave home at 18. I'm glad I stuck to it.

I pulled the couch blanket over me and buried my head in my pillow.

I coughed. A horrible smell reached my nose like a thousand darts in the air. It smelled as if something had leaked chemicals into my apartment. It almost smelled like paint.

I sat up and looked around.

The walls were yellow. My walls had been white, but now, they were yellow.

I blinked. How did this happen?

I wasn't going to start painting for weeks. I was going to have my sister come and help me, but it looked like the job had already been done.

I looked down at myself. I was wearing an old smock and I was covered in yellow. I stood up and looked around.

Surprisingly, I had done a nice job. The ceiling I had left white, just like I had planned to. I even painted the doors and their frames. I had done some unpacking as well. I was nowhere near being done, but it was a start.

Maybe I have a sleep disorder. Nana used to have a sleep disorder. She would wander around the house blathering about people who were following her and something about a plot to save the world. It was the same every night, until the day she died.

I had inherited most of her belongings. Like the old bureau that sat in my bedroom. It had so many compartments and drawers you could find a new object every day. For instance, yesterday I found a whole ring of keys behind one of the wooden doors. There must have been a hundred keys. What would she do with a hundred keys?

Nana had always been odd. She was a paranoid, always looking behind her. She scared me so much I became paranoid. Now I have the feeling I'm being watched and the worst part is I actually might be.

I walked over to the front window that looked over the back yard. I was almost hoping to see the mysterious man in the baseball cap standing out there just to prove me sane.

But, there was nothing out there except for a few bird trotting about the lawn.

A small ticking filled the silence.

I looked up at the clock that hung on the far wall.

Great, I was late for work.

I jumped over the coffee table and stumbled over to a few boxes that were stacked unevenly behind the couch. I frantically ripped open the one labeled 'Clothes'. I pulled on a pair of jean shorts and my uniform that was an ugly brown then I quickly straitened my nametag that read, "Donna Lewis."

I slipped on some black flats, grabbed my keys, and trotted out the door. I slammed my apartment door behind me and swung down the stairs and out the front door.

I sprinted across the lawn to my purple, dented, Toyota. I threw open the door and climbed inside. I shoved my keys in and turned them like my life depended on it. I backed up and headed down the empty streets.

San Francisco never looked so beautiful. The buildings glinted with the morning sun, and the roads rose above like waves. I nodded at a passing trolly. There was only one thing that I hated about this city and it was the tourists.

I still waved as they passed. Besides, I live off of tourists. No one would come to the "Frisco Diner," if there wasn't a _Frisco_ to go with it.

I pulled in front of the old neon sign that burned bright even in the daytime. I keep telling Mike to turn it off, but that old man believes that neon signs are the key to customers. I can't trust him on that. Most of the time the, "Frisco Diner," is as silent as a ghost.

The Diner loomed above. The Diner itself looked like a reject from the 50s.

I closed my rusted car door behind me as I walked up to the retro doors of the Diner. I pushed them back and walked inside.

There was a small tinkle of a bell as I peered around the diner. The red, plastic seats looked more shiny than usual. The windows were less grimy.

"Hello, Welcome to the Frisco Diner…" Niki said as she doodled on her guest booklet.

She looked up lazily then muttered, "Oh, it's you."

Her short blond hair was twisted around her finger in a knot. She had cherry red lipstick and the same careless look on her face as always. I tell you, she's the one that scares away our business.

"Good morning Niki." I sighed, heading over to the counters.

Niki clacked her gum loudly as she watched me walk over to the sinks.

I was about to start my daily routine of washing the dishes from the nightshift workers, but they were already washed.

"What are you doing?" Niki drawled, clicking her fake fingernails on the top of the counters.

"My job," I said, slowly, "But it looks like someone beat me to it."

"What are talking about?" Niki said, popping her gum.

"I mean, someone did the dishes." I muttered, throwing the smelly sponge back into the sink.

"Donna," Niki sighed, "You came here at 5 in the morning and cleaned everything."

"What?" I said, confused.

"You came in here and cleaned everything. I would know, I've been here since four. You went home about an hour ago." She said simply.

Then she gave me a disgusted look, "Is that paint in your hair?"

I rubbed my face, trying to remember last night.

"Are you, like, okay?" Niki sniffed, clacking her gum.

"No, I'm not." I sighed, sitting on top of counter.

"Talk to me." Niki said, resting her head on her hand.

"I don't know," I muttered, looking up at the stained ceiling, "Last night there was this guy poking around my building's yard. He dug a hole and put a rock in the flowerbed. He's been following me for the past couple days. Then this morning I woke up and my apartment was painted yellow and now this. I don't remember doing any of it!"

"Were you…" Niki paused, blowing a bubble, "Ya know. On drugs?"

"No." I replied, crossing my arms.

"Just saying," Niki shrugged, "I had a friend that did heroine, and when he came to, his dog was in the chimney. He didn't remember it either."

"Did it seem like I was on drugs when I came in?" I asked, looking at her curiously.

"No," Niki said, picking her nails, "You just seemed like a robot. You just had to clean everything. You said, "So I will have time for other things." Whatever that means."

"Other things?" I repeated, "I don't have other things."

"What about that rock?" She said, pointing a long, red, nail at my pocket, "Is that the one you found?"

I looked down and saw one of its clear edges poking out. I reached in and grabbed it.

I turned it over in my hand. I had gotten these shorts from an unopened box. How did it get in there?

I swallowed and threw it on the counter.

"You have it." I said, eyeing the rock nervously.

"Why?" Niki said, picking it up, "What's wrong with it."

"Some weird guy put it in my yard. Maybe it's poisoned." I said nervously.

"Don't be silly." Niki laughed, looking it over, "Looks like a piece of glass."

"Niki," I muttered, "I just moved here and I got these shorts from an unopened box. How did it get in the pocket?"

Niki rolled her eyes, "It might just be another piece of glass. There's millions of pieces of glass out there. The one you found last night can't be the only one."

I sighed, "Whatever, just keep it."

"Fine," Niki smiled, "I'll use it to fix the crack in my car window."

I ran my fingers through my wavy brown hair, "I'm going to head out, just tell Mike about the work I put in last night."

"Alright." Niki said as she went back to drawing on the guest book.

I strolled passed her and pushed through the front doors. As I headed to my purple Toyota I heard a faint tinkle of the bell behind me.

I wrenched open the door and sat down.

I shifted my position uncomfortably as I felt something sharp poking me in the hip. I sat up to peered down at the old seats.

The same piece of rock lay just below me.


	2. Monday and It's Raining

**Monday, and it's raining.**

I might as well tell you that it's raining. Which it is.

I don't think I've ever seen a day where it hasn't rained. Not in London, at least. I'm sure I'm over exaggerating, but I've had a bad morning so it's my born right to be pessimistic.

"Eggs again?" I mumbled, covering my face with my hands.

Mum was leaning over a skillet that was spiting grease into the air.

"You don't want eggs," Mom muttered, "Make your own breakfast."

I groaned and rested my head on the table. Mum always made eggs. She never ate them though. She just left them for me, so I had to suffer through them.

She took a spatula and scraped them off onto my plate. I turned away from them and looked out the window. Rain splattered the glass, creating a foggy haze.

I squinted through the window out into the yard.

I could see a figure of a man standing in our front lawn. I had seen him there the past couple of days. I nodded over to my Mum to look out the window.

She leaned over the table and glanced out.

"It's that man again," She frowned.

"What's he want?" I sighed, picking through my eggs with my fork.

"Hey!" Mom said, tapping on the window, "Clear out!"

"Right," I smirked, "He definitely heard that."

"Next time I see him out there, I'm calling the police." She muttered, peering at him suspiciously.

"Well," I said, stretching, "I'm off."

"Leave through the back." Mum whispered.

I rolled my eyes and grabbed my backpack. Mum was always acting paranoid. Personally, the man never bothered me. He always kept his distance.

"Bye Mum." I called behind me as I closed the back door.

I pulled up my hood and walked down the stone pathway.

I was about to open the back gate when I spotted something glinting in the rain. It looked like a piece of glass. I picked it up and ran my fingers across one of its smooth, red, edges. Was it a ruby?

My heart leaped at the thought. A ruby in my own back yard!

I pocketed it. I would show it to my Science teacher. Maybe he would know what it was, if it wasn't a piece of rubbish. I smiled and walked down the foggy streets of London. I sniffed and closed my eyes at the crosswalk. The rain was pounding right into my face.

I wiped my face and opened my eyes.

I was inside my classroom.

I whirled around confused. How did I get here?

"Liz," Maya said, looking up at me from her work, "What's with you?"

I tried to remember what happened. There was rain in my face, then I closed my eyes, and when I opened them, I was here. It was as if my mind turned off and my body had still worked without it.

"Liz," Maya repeated, "What's the matter?"

"I don't know how I got here, Maya." I hissed, as Mr. Walker walked around the room peering at everyone's work.

"What are you talking about?" Maya said, smiling, "You've just been sitting there since Science started."

"But," I paused looking at my clothes. They were dry as a bone. I looked at the time. It had nearly been six hours since I left home.

"Elizabeth," Mr. Walker said, sternly, "Back to work."

I nodded and looked down at my parchment, trying to figure out what just happened. Did I black out? I didn't feel sick, I felt fine.

I picked up my pencil and bit the eraser just like I did every day. I was about to start on the first equation but it had already been finished, as well as the rest of them. All of them had done with perfect handwriting, one I did not recognize as my own. Not only that, but all the work had been shown, including calculations. But, I didn't even have a calculator out. How could I have done this? I don't even know how to do these problems.

"Nice work Elizabeth." Mr. Walker smiled, his mustache bristling, "You've mastered the lesson in one day. I'm impressed."

I smiled. Well, why should I turn myself in? Sure I didn't do the work, but I obviously knew how to. During the term tests, I'll just turn myself off again and finish the problems.

I sat back in my seat as I watched everyone struggle their way through the equations. The poor suckers.

When the bell rang every stood up with relief on their face. I'm sure none of them finished, because they're not geniuses like me. What can I say? I'm brilliant.

I slung my binder bag over my shoulder and strutted out like I was a queen. Well, I'm usually not this smart. Every dog has it's day, right?

"Elizabeth?" Mr. Walker said, as I was about to walk out of the classroom.

"Yeah?" I asked, turning around.

He smiled down at me, his baldhead reflecting the overhead lights. I think Mr. Walker makes up for his baldhead with that enormous mustache.

"Those problems weren't meant to be solved." He said, squinting his eyes suspiciously, "They were meant to be a challenge. I didn't even show you how to do the problems. How did you manage to solve them all in a matter of minutes?"

I froze, my jaw locked with guilt.

"To be honest," I muttered, looking at the floor, "I've been having kind of an off day. I was on my way to school and I blacked out. When I came to, I was in school six hours later. The problems were done as soon as I looked down at the page."

He raised a bushy eyebrow, "You blacked out and the problems solved themselves?"

"I'm telling the truth!" I said, pointing at my work, "Look at the handwriting. I have the worst handwriting. If you don't believe that, then look at my past work and you'll see the difference."

"Well, thank you for being…" He paused for a moment then said, "Honest with me."

I nodded. I'm glad I came clean. If I said I really could do those equations, Mr. Walker would put me in the "Advanced," class and I hear they have the worst homework. Oh well, it was fun while it lasted.

"Elizabeth," Mr. Walker said clearly, "Are you feeling alright?"

"Yes, fine sir." I said, adjusting my binder bag, "I did have one question for you though."

"Anything." He said, sitting atop one of the desks.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the smooth, red, stone. I handed it to him and he looked it over.

"I found it on my way to school," I said, watching him study it, "I was hoping you could tell me what it is."

He looked up at me and smiled, "Come back at the end of the day, I'll have an answer for you."

"Right," I nodded, giving him a little wave.

He waved too as I grabbed the door's frame and swung myself through into the hallway.

The smooth, brown, tiled floors glinted with light as fading footsteps echoed through the passageway.

Only a few students lingered in the hallways. Most had already gotten to study hall.

I spotted Maya's short, brown, head bobbing in front me.

"Maya," I called out, "Wait up!"

She turned round and smiled through a freckled face, "Liz, where were you?"

"I found this rock and I was hoping Mr. Walker could tell me what it was. Not that I really care that much about it."

Suddenly, everything was silent. Maya froze in front of me like a statue. Then the walls bled white paint, replacing the brown of the hallways. A desk melted into view beneath me and carpet sprang up between boards of the wood floor.

Soon enough, I was sitting in Mrs. Patterson's study hall.

Maya sat beside me. She looked up as I gazed around the room.

"I know, Liz. You already told me that a half an hour ago." She whispered, raising her eyebrows.

"What?" I said, spinning in my seat.

"Shhh," She hissed, "You want to get us Detention?"

I looked up at Mrs. Patterson who sat behind her desk, glaring over at us. She was a rather large woman with curly brown hair and a pig nose. She didn't really have a, "pig nose," but her nose was oddly turned up. She always looked very pompous, as if she was sniffing her nose at everyone around her.

I put my head down on my desk and closed my eyes. What was happening to me? Was I going to snuff it at 14? I didn't feel like I was going to die, but I was having memory gaps. Maybe it was one of those illnesses where you don't know that you're ill but then it turns out you have Cancer.

I swallowed nervously.

"Liz?" Maya said, softly, "Are you alright?"

"No, I'm not," I sighed, lifting my head, "I've been having these black outs, where I'll do things that I won't remember doing. Then there's this guy hanging around my Mum's flat. I've seen him on the way home from school as well. I think I'm being followed. I think I'm losing it."

"Don't be silly," Maya muttered, "You're just stressed. Exams are coming up, who wouldn't feel sick?"

I groaned and put my head back on my desk. I had almost forgotten about Exams. This is the not the best day I've ever had.

"At least you don't have any homework." Maya smiled, nudging me.

"Are you kidding me?" I scoffed, "We have loads!"

"Not you." Maya shrugged, "You got done in about five minutes."

I looked down at my desk. Sure enough, my Math, Science, History, and all of my English homework were finished. They were also done in the same unfamiliar handwriting as before.

I sighed and shoved the parchments into my binder bag.

The bell rang and I left without a word. I closed my eyes and sighed nervously. Was I going crazy? How can I black out, but still be doing things? And how does a person get a new handwriting in one day?

I wrenched open my locker door and grabbed my blue jacket with the school crest upon it.

I threw it over my head and walked passed Maya without telling her I was off.

I strolled into Mr. Walker's room. He was sitting at his desk with an odd machine around his eye. I knew I had seen that machine before. It was used to examine things up close. Really tiny things. A telescope?

I stood there pondering it without noticing Mr. Walker had looked up.

"Elizabeth?" He said, putting on his square glasses.

"What?" I said, looking up, "Oh sorry. I was hoping you'd tell me what it is. I know it's probably something really ordinary and not a ruby."

I paused for a moment then said, "Is it a ruby?"

"No," He said, peering into the scope again, "But it's far from ordinary."

"What is it?" I asked, excitedly.

"Well," He muttered, scratching his baldhead, "I don't know. It's not on the Periodic Table, or any variations of a mineral, metal, or crystal."

I waited for an answer.

"I've only seen one other case like this," He said, "Well, I haven't personally seen it. But, a friend of mine in America described the same traits as this stone. A young woman brought it into his store a few days ago. Her name is Donna Lewis, I'll give you her number if you like?"

I scratched my short blond hair and sighed, "You mean it's nothing?"

"On the contrary," Mr. Walker smiled, "It's something. Possibly a scientific discovery."

I beamed. I always knew I picked up rubbish, hoping they would turn out to be worth millions. This piece of garbage finally served me well.

"I'll take the number," I smiled, pushing my hair out of my eyes.

"Right," He said, scribbling down on a piece of stray parchment, "Here you are."

He handed it to me and I pocketed it.

"Do you mind if I keep this for a few days?" He asked, peering over his glasses, "I'd like to take it to a few friends of mine."

"You'll give it back, right?" I said, walking backwards towards the classroom door.

"You have my word, Elizabeth." He nodded.

I trusted Mr. Walker. He had such a kind face and a big bushy mustache to top it off. It looked like his face was home to a small rodent. But, he always brought a smile to my face. Secretly, he was kind of a father figure to me. Ever since mine trotted off, I've looked up to Mr. Walker. I almost didn't want to go to high school. We'd be a whole block apart then.

"Before I go," I paused, "What is that thing you're using?"

"A Microscope." He smiled, his square glasses sliding down his nose.

"Right," I said, sheepishly, "See you round, then."

I waved to Mr. Walker and swung myself into the hallway. I had almost forgotten the blackouts with the thoughts of me sitting atop 1000 pounds for my discovery. What a glorious day that will be.

I clicked my heels down the stone steps of the school. I walked along the front pathway and around the steaming sewers that lay in the middle of the brick ridden roads. I trotted along, making loud clacking noises with my shoes.

London's streets were foggy and grey. The people that walked ahead looked like shadowy ghosts.

I coughed and wiped my forehead, which had a thin layer of dew across it.

I felt like I was breathing in gulps of water. I coughed again and turned into a back alleyway.

My raincoat swung around me with a misty breeze. I twirled around and jumped over the puddles. I looked around to see if anyone was watching me. No one was in sight so I started to sing.

"Missed the last train home." I sang as I hoped between puddles, "Birds pass by to tell me that I'm not alone."

I looked up, expecting to see clear blue skies and birds soaring above. I was met with grey again. I closed my eyes as I walked down the alley and imagined the birds and clear blue skies on my own.

"Well, I'm pushing myself to finish this part." I sighed, "I can handle a lot, but one thing I'm missing is in…"

I opened my eyes and smiled, "In your eyes."

Suddenly I got a chill down my spine. A small snap sounded behind me. I whirled around, peering through the fog. A man was standing there in the middle of the alley. I couldn't see his face, but I knew who he was by the black over coat and the baseball cap. It was the man that had been following me, but he's never been this close or had me alone.

I stepped back and tripped over a bin. I staggered up and turned to run but something caught me from behind. I rocket backwards then I was lifted against a garage door. I struggled, but it felt as if invisible bonds had been tied around every inch of me. I couldn't even open my mouth to scream.

The man emerged from the fog, standing in front of me.

"Elizabeth Feldman," He said in a clear American accent, "Normally, we are not so bold. However, you have proved yourself difficult."

He flicked one of his fingers and suddenly I was able to speak.

My first instinct was to scream, which I did.

"Stop." The man said, putting his hand against my neck, strangling my cry, "I have not been instructed to harm you, but I will if need be."

He clasped one of his hands over my mouth.

"Listen very closely," He muttered, his green eyes glinting through the shadow that crossed his face, "You cannot tell anyone about Dunamium. This project has been specifically chosen for you and only you. Do you understand?"

He took his hand off of my mouth and waited for me to respond.

"Look," I cried, "If you mean that stupid rock, I gave it to a friend."

"And he will be taken care of," The man muttered, darkly.

He reached into my pocket and pulled out the stone. I looked at it in shock.

"You can't just get rid of it." He said, turning it over in his fingers, "If you could, who knows what the world would be?"

He flicked his finger again and my right arm flopped to my side. Before I could react he grabbed my arm and wrenched open my hand. I tried to scream once more, but with another flick of his finger my voice caught in my throat.

He placed the blood red stone in my palm and forced my fingers to close around it. I watched over his shoulder as he squeezed my hand painfully into the rock. I would have screamed in agony but I couldn't move a muscle.

Then, an extraordinary thing happened. The pain ceased and a strange sliding feeling sank into my palm, like I was getting an injection. Then there was nothing.

He flicked his hand and I fell to my knees below him, shaking with fear.

"No more mistakes." He hissed under his breath, "We can't afford it."

He paused as I scrambled away from him.

"That fate of the world rests with you." He nodded, then turned around and walked away.

I could hear his shoes tapping against the stone alleyway. Then, all of the sudden, there was quiet. It was as if he had stopped in his path, but there was no shadowy silhouette. He just, disappeared.

I scrambled up and sprinted down the alley, tears streaming down my face and dripping onto my blue raincoat.

I whirled myself round the edge of the last house in front of me and out into the street. A police officer stood just across the street, twirling his baton. I was about to cross to the other side and report everything that had happened, but then I remembered the man's words.

What would he do if I told? Would he kill me? Would he kill my friends and family? The police couldn't protect us. This man could break you in half with just a twitch of his fingers. He would break me in half if I made any more mistakes.

I wiped my eyes and walked down the street, making sure I was always in sight so that I would never be alone.

I shook my hand. It felt sore, like I had a huge splinter in my palm. I checked my pockets for the stone but it wasn't there. Did I lose it?

I gulped, thinking of the things the man would do to me if I really did lose it.

However, he had said that I couldn't lose it, as if it stuck with me.

I rubbed my hand again, feeling the muscles clench.

Then a thought popped into my head.

When he had bent over my hand, it felt like he was shoving something into me. Like and infusion.

I looked down at my hand.

Maybe he forced the stone into me.

Maybe I'm stuck with it forever.


	3. A Wild Crash

1A wild crash.

"Dude," Luke scoffed, as I scooted up the ramped, balancing on the very top, "Are you game, or aren't you?"

I sighed, looking down at the asphalt below.

I had done this jump before, but not with anyone watching. Not that it mattered if people watched, but if I screwed up my reputation, there would be witnesses.

"I'm game, Luke." I muttered, looking down at the chubby red head in the hoody.

"Then do it." He said, shrugging his fat shoulders, "You said you could and I brought my guys to see it. Do it or I'm telling everyone how you pussied out."

I looked down at his 'guys.'

They looked at lot like him, fat, stupid, and wearing hoodies. I kicked up the board and leaned it carefully over the edge. If I slipped, I was looking at a total face plant.

I swallowed and shoved off.

I swooped down the ramp and was soon facing the jump ahead at an insane speed. They must have polished the ramps, because I had never gone this fast before. I was rocketing through the parking lot, the world around me a mash of colors.

Then I hit the ramp and flew up into the air. I kept my feet planted on the board, trying to stay calm. I had plenty of space in front of me, I was keeping my balance, and I was calm. I could make this.

Then something caught my eye. A blue shard of glass sparkled in the afternoon sunlight. In that moment of distraction, I lost my footing. I landed on the parking lot, skimming to a stop over the bottle caps and other trash that lay below.

I laid there on the ground, bleeding, in pain, and stars dancing in front of my eyes.

I could hear Luke's shrill laughter cutting through the air.

"C'mon guys." He smirked, "Let's go."

I sat up, blood dripping on my hand.

I took one look and vomited.

I spit and sniffed, wiping the blood off my face without looking at it.

I couldn't take blood, not since the accident.

My mother and I had been driving on the highway when my mother went through a red light. She had actually been crossing through yellow, but another car must have been in a hurry because as soon as the other lane turned green he slammed on the gas.

I couldn't tell you the rest of the story, because I don't remember it.

All I know was that there were loud noises, bending of metal, and blood. Even the thought makes me feel sick.

I had been wearing my seat belt, but my mother had taken hers off to reach for a Keane album that was in the back seat. She forgot to put it back on.

That was three years ago. I still miss my mom but not like I still fear blood.

I shuddered and sheepishly picked up my board.

I looked up to see three classmates watching me from across the street. They were girls and they were giggling.

My face turned red and I turned my face away.

God, could this be any worse?

Then I spotted that stupid piece of glass. It sparkled and glinted like a diamond. I picked it up and looked it over.

It probably was just a piece of glass.

I threw it on the ground and brought my foot down on it. I twisted my leg around, cramming it into the asphalt.

I lifted my foot, but there was no rock.

Then I got the oddest feeling in my foot. It was if I was stepping on a rock, but it was being shoved into me. I groaned as I could feel something sliding through my skin to my bone.

I fell to my knees, holding my foot.

I untied my black converse and slid down my sock. There was nothing there, maybe it was just a Charlie horse.

In my foot…

I slipped on my sock and tied my shoe.

I limped over to my board as the girls across the street watched me curiously. I made a face at them and pushed off.

Girls were so judgmental. You couldn't do anything without being considered a wimp. Then again, I don't think guys are much better. But, sadly I had just puked in front of them. That will probably get around, along with me taking a face plant.

I rode my skateboard through a back alleyway, in case I ran into Luke and his fat ass friends.

But, it appeared that I was not alone.

It was that man again.

He had been following me for a few days, maybe a week. He had first turned up in my front yard. My dad doesn't like anyone standing in the same stop for over an hour, he thinks it's creepy. In this case, he's right.

Ever since that day he's been almost everywhere I hang out. Alleyways, the skate park in front of the Grandview pool, and at my own home.

He was standing in the middle of the alley. I couldn't see his face because a dark shadow crossed it, and I didn't want to get close enough to find out.

I stopped my board and kicked it up.

I stood in front of him, about four meters away.

"Alright," I said, sighing, "What do you want? I'm tired of being followed. If you have something to say to me, just say it."

The man lowered his head.

I waited at a distance.

"James Morris." He said clearly.

"It's Jim," I replied, cautiously, "and how do you know my name?"

I could hear the man chuckle, which sent shivers down my spine.

"I hope you won't be difficult," He muttered, "Elizabeth and Donna both took their stones to be identified. They both had to be taught a lesson."

I scoffed, "What are you talking about? Who's Donna and Elizabeth?"

"You'll meet them," He said, taking a step towards me, "Soon enough."

I took a step back, "And what if I don't want to?"

"Again," He muttered, darkly, "Do not be difficult."

"I wouldn't be 'difficult' if I knew what you're doing." I said, looking at him angrily.

He paused, "I'll explain everything… In pieces."

I waited for him to continue, still keeping a considerable distance.

"Today, I'll explain. Then I'll return when you believe me." He said, simply.

He looked at me with that dark shadow.

"You have been given an evolutionary…" He hesitated, thinking for a moment, "Boost."

"Boost?" I repeated, skeptically, "I don't remember being given an evolutionary boost."

He laughed and I could tell he was young. It didn't sound like a forty year olds laugh, but more like a 25 year olds. Somehow, that made him less threatening. I felt like I could give a fair fight if the time came.

"When you stepped on Dunamium you were given your evolutionary boost." He smirked, "Potizo, I believe, and the others have Pura and…"

I could hear him laugh under his breath, "One lucky girl has Hapas."

I looked at him then shouted, "What the hell does that mean? Dunanium? Potizo? Pura? Hapas? Is that even English?"

"It's Greek," He sighed, "Dunamis means miraculous powers. We as a species have not evolved in the last 2,000 years. We've been at an evolutionary stand still. We needed a selected few to jumpstart the process. We've created a substance filled with evolved molecules that are able to fuse with another set of genes that have not evolved."

"So," I said, slowly, "I'm evolved?"

"Yes," He said, taking another step forward, "With the more primitive human kind, unable to evolve, we had to take action for the events to come."

"Events?" I asked, "What events?"

"Professor Nemec will explain soon enough," He muttered, "For now you should be happy. You know the most about your… Situation, than anyone else."

"My situation." I repeated, "Besides the, 'evolutionary boost,' I don't know what my situation is."

"Water." He said, simply, "It has been a struggle for centuries. It is life itself, yet we ourselves cannot conjure it. Very unfortunate. Since our feeble genes are not able to evolve accordingly due to the constant luxuries, we were forced to infuse you with the genes that are able to help themselves."

"So I can… Conjure water?" I said, laughing.

"Not only that," He muttered, "You can use it for transportation, weather control, even breathing under water. These are all things that stood in our way as a species."

He looked up, "We are the future James."

"It's Jim." I repeated annoyed, and frankly not convinced.

"Listen," I said, slowly, "Not that this hasn't been fun, but I have to get going. Do you mind not following me anymore?"

He smiled, through the shadow that crossed his face. He stood silently, then, suddenly he vanished.

I blinked and searched the alley. He was just gone in a flash.

I threw down my board and sped down the alleyway. To freaked out to look back.

Dad's car was in the driveway. He must have come home from work early, which meant only one thing. He's going to cook.

Dad had never been able to cook, but he was trying to fill the space that mom had left. Mom had not been a stay at home mom, but she could cook. She had worked for some sort of company. She had probably told me the name before, but I forgot it. I was only 13, maybe younger, when she told me things like that.

I was 16 now. I wasn't exactly and adult, but I definitely was ready to give up the skate board, especially after today. I mean, what was I thinking? Doing tricks for some stupid 14 year olds.

I opened the back door and stepped inside.

Dad was leaning over a steaming pot, hurriedly grabbing things left and right.

"Jim," He said, panting, "Where have you been?"

I looked at him curiously, "Out."

He wasn't listening to me. He didn't even look back when he talked to me. He just asked me that just for the sake of asking questions.

I walked passed him into the living room. I put my board behind the couch. I usually put it there so I could grab it and walk out the door if I wanted to.

"Guess who I ran into?" I called out, as I sat on the couch, leaning my feet on the other end.

My dad didn't answer. I didn't really expect him to. Besides, it was a rhetorical question.

"That man who's been hanging around our house," I said, laughing, "He's a real nut job."

My dad poked his head out of the kitchen archway, "What man? And what happened to your face?"

I touched my cheek and felt the open wound.

"Oh, I had a fall at the skate park." I muttered, "But, you know who I'm talking about? He's always in the front yard."

He made a face then turned back into the kitchen, "No, I don't remember that."

"Dad!" I exclaimed, "You pointed him out!"

My dad was silent for a moment then he called back, "I don't remember that, Jim."

I sighed in frustration, "Well, anyway, I ran into him on the way home from school. He talked about how humans haven't evolved in a while. Then he started talking about how I was given an evolutionary boost."

"That's funny," My dad called over the hissing of steam, "Your mother used to say things like that."

"She did?" I replied, looking out the window, "Do you know where she used to work?"

"Do I know where she worked?" He laughed, "Of course I do. I'm her husband."

"You were her husband." I muttered, watching the red sky of Ohio.

My dad walked up to the doorway and stood there, staring at me.

"Jim," He said, "I will always be her husband."

I looked up at him and nodded. I never disagreed with him when my Mother was the conflict. He'd just look at me with those sad brown eyes and I couldn't say no.

He started acting like a child after Mom died. He always sat alone, ate alone, he did everything alone.

It had been up to me to cook and clean for a while.

Only recently did my Father start to remember that he was my Father.

"So," I said, slowly, "Where did Mom work?"

He paused, then said, "Some company."

"Which one?" I said, crossing my arms.

"Well," He said, angrily, "She never told me."

"So you don't know." I said, smiling.

He glared at me and muttered, "She had her secrets and I had mine."

"Why would she keep her job a secret?" I scoffed.

Suddenly, smoke billowed out of the archway. My day whirled around and ran back into the kitchen.

Moments later he started shouting, "Fire! Fire!"

I jumped off the couch and ran through the kitchen archway.

"Dad!" I shouted over the fire alarm, "What happened?"

My Dad stumbled away from the stove couching as smoked stung my eyes.

He looked at me with tears running down his face.

"I left the paper towels on the stove!" He shouted pushing me towards the door, "Come on! We have to call 911!"

My Dad rushed passed me and out the door, calling back, "Jim! Come on!"

But I was frozen, my eyes fixated on the flames that sprang from the stove. My mind was working feverishly to calculate all the ways I could put out the fire. It was like a million computers working at once.

"Jim!" He shouted again, "Come on!"

Then something clicked in my mind and water shot out like a cannon. It bolted across the room and hit the stove, exploding sparks into the air.

There was a small hissing sound and the last flame subsided.

I looked down at my hand. It was outstretched, as if I was reaching for the stove.

My dad strolled up next to me, staring at my arm.

"How did you…" He said, breathless.

"Whoa," I muttered, letting my hand fall to my side, "Where did that come from?"

"It came from your hand," He said, as smoke rose from the charred stove.

I looked at him and laughed, "Right. It probably came from a pipe. Something could have burst in the fire."

Dad looked at the wall behind me, "The water came from over here. The fire wasn't over here and there is no sign of a broken pipe. It came from you."

Then I remember. The shadowy man in the alleyway had told me about an evolutionary boost. That couldn't be true, could it?

"That was amazing, Jim!" He said, looking around the room, "You saved the kitchen!"

"Dad," I said, tugging at his sleeve, "I didn't do this."

"But, it all makes sense now," He said, eagerly, "Your Mother used to say something like this, people being able to achieve Miraculous Powers. She said people could even conjure things when need be."

He turned around and looked at me, "Is this what she was talking about?"

"Dad," I repeated, "I didn't do this."

"And the man," He continued, "He said something about an evolutionary boost? Do you think he knew Cara?"

"For the last time," I shouted, "I didn't do this! You sound just like the man that's been following me. _Insane_."

"Jim," He smiled, "Do it again. I'll prove it."

Dad seemed like he was headed for a nervous breakdown so I decided to leave.

"Jim," He shouted, "Wait."

But, I didn't listen.

I walked out into the living room and through the narrow hallway leading to my room. I opened the door and hopped through the clothes that lay on the floor.

I sat down at my desk and watched the sun through the window.

Dad had been odd since Mom left. He always thought of random thing to fill time.

"Let's go to New York," or, "Let's paint the kitchen yellow," or, "Let's start our own business."

It was about time he grew up. I was tired of getting him out of trouble and having to be his guide with everything.

I was just so tired of it.

Suddenly, it started to rain.


End file.
